He Had Loved
by rin-mizuki
Summary: Sesshomaru's love is gone. Everyone has left him. And he is still waiting.


Woooooo another shorty! Asgduysdkicg I don't know where I get these things.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. Ooookaaaaaay?

He Had Loved

He had loved once. He could remember her so clearly, so vividly, even though it had been centuries since he saw her.

He spoke her name at a whisper, tasting it on his tongue. It reminded him of a spring breeze, gently caressing his face. So warm. So loving.

It reminded him of summer rain, providing a little coolness in the sun's unrelenting heat. Rain fell softly, running down his cheeks like tears. Providing him with the moisture that he refused to let leak from his eyes.

It reminded him of tinkling wind chimes, swaying softly in the breeze and playing their song. The notes sang clear in the air, for all to hear.

It reminded him of the curve of her breasts, round and true. He loved their creaminess, their exquisite taste, the rosy peak that topped each mound. They fit his hands perfectly, like nothing else did.

It reminded him of a calm meadow filled with wildflowers. Their gentle aroma wafted throughout the field an calmed him. Their delicate beauty amazed him. So fragile. So replaceable.

It reminded him of the finest silk, moving softly against his skin. So smooth. So beautiful. It was the fabric made for gods, and his love was a goddess. Was.

It reminded him of a cloud, fluffily hanging over everyone's heads. Lazily swimming through the air without a care in the world. Free to see the world.

He spoke her name as if in conversation, rolling it around in his mouth. It reminded him of early summer heat, more like a haze across the land.

It reminded him of a bird's call, repeated by others. Chirping, squawking, trilling, it was all soothing. As was his love. Was.

It reminded him of velvet, luxurious and smooth. Covering pillows it was a dream. A pleasant dream.

It reminded him of a china doll, perfect in nearly every way. Its skin painted a delicate cream with cheeks of rose and eyes like tide pools. Frivolous lace and ruffles adorned the body, meant to be magnificent.

It reminded him of her hips, swaying as she walked. When she danced for him, she moved in lovely ways. Seducing him. Exciting him. He only had to speak her name, then she allowed him to give her what he knew she wanted.

It reminded him of a lake, gently rippling. Alive with creatures swimming and floating, it sustained so much even when doing so little. His love was once full of life. Was.

It reminded him of a lost traveller, aimlessly wandering. Calling out to no one, but also anyone who could hear him. Without a clue. There was danger around every corner, but the lost traveller put his trust in anyone who offered help. So foolish. So rash.

It reminded him of a campfire, flickering in the night. A little flame in a dark, dark world. A little bit of light to spur everyone on.

It reminded him of the sun, always there. Always warm. Never letting you down until things got in the way. His love was like a hot, guiding ray of sunshine. Was.

He yelled her name to the world, for everyone to hear. It reminded him of drowning, slow and painful. Losing consciousness fast or staying awake to experience your own death. It all depended on where you sank.

It reminded him of the roaring ocean, waves tossing you around. Bringing you under. Manhandling you like an angry giant. It was calming outside, but once you stepped in, all hell broke loose.

It reminded him of the ecstasy he found within her, warm and wet on his cock. She was so tight. So hot. So responsive when he pounded into her.

It reminded him of a harsh winter chill, spiking through his body. Seeping deep into him, down to his bones, freezing him from the inside out. Turning him to ice, shattering him, leaving him for the wolves.

It reminded him of nightshade, so beautiful but so deadly. It could be a wonderful garden addition, and a deadly poison. It was a two sided coin. His love was a two sided coin. Was.

It reminded him of the clang of two blades, and the fury of the fight. Drawn from their scabbards. Pitted against each other. Silver met silver in a rush and a flash. He loved the battles, he was strong. His love was strong. Was.

It reminded him of a raging river, sweeping up anything and everything in its path. Scattered with sharp rocks and jagged edges. Dangerous. But exhilarating. And somehow calm at the same time.

It reminded him of his beast, snarling within him. Throwing himself against his cage. Whimpering to be let out. Thirsty for blood. Longing for vengeance. His love was caged once. Was.

He howled her name to the sky, full of anguish. It reminded him of himself, teeming with depression and loss. When his love went, so did his soul. He was truly alone now. Everyone had forsaken him, but no one blamed him.

It reminded him of that fateful battle, only a few hours long.

It reminded him of the dark half demon, hungry for power.

It reminded him of a monk, living his life in fear of being swallowed up by himself.

It reminded him of a slayer, warring within herself over her little brother who had been twisted against her.

It reminded him of a fox child, who lost his parents in greed.

It reminded him of a wind sorceress, whose every breath could be cut short on a whim.

It reminded him of a void child, emotions hidden in the mirror of souls she held.

It reminded him of a little girl, whose village was plagued and who was brought back to life during a moment of rare kindness.

It reminded him of an ugly, green toad, who took his beating every day and always came back.

It reminded him of a clay priestess, whose heart was filled with loathing and despair, but her borrowed soul desperately wanted to hold onto love.

It reminded him of a boy, almost man, who swung around his halberd and took the lives of many, regretting none.

It reminded him of his half brother, warring with the human and demon sides of him.

It reminded him of the tentacle coming straight for him, at such an angle that even he couldn't stop it.

It reminded him of his love, who jumped in front of him and took the death meant for him.

It reminded him of the wail let forth from the slayer's throat; the loss of a sister.

It reminded him of the yell from the monk; the loss of a dear, dear friend.

It reminded him of the cry from the fox child; the loss of a mother.

It reminded him of the shout from his half brother; the loss of best friend.

It reminded him of the frown from the clay priestess; odd and strange to everyone there.

It reminded him of the bowed head of the wind sorceress; she admired his love so much.

It reminded him of the sound that was brought from him; a high, keening sound filled with anger. Agony. Pain.

He lost his love that day. He lost himself that day. His sword wouldn't respond to him. The jewel was gone, destroyed by his love's wish. No one knew what it was. No one cared. The dark half breed was gone from the plane of existence forever, the wind sorceress was set free, the void child regained her emotions, the slayer's brother died a peaceful death, and the clay priestess committed suicide, ridding herself of stolen souls.

The blood of his love remained on his clothes. A reminder. A memory, still fresh in his mind. He would say her name. One last time. "Kagome..." he breathed, his voice raw and constricted with emotion.

Tears ran silently down his face, tears laden with guilt. Everyone said it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help it, and even his damn swords spoke to him. In a moment of rage, he let his beast run free. It howled and whimpered, trying to tell his mate to come back.

His half brother understood. He knew what he was trying to say, he felt the anguish radiating off of the three-legged dog. Emanating from him. He gathered the others and left him to his demise. They knew he would beat himself up over it.

The once great Lord of the West left the title to his half brother, who ruled surprisingly well with the coaching of his life mate, a demoness named Yuki.

Sesshomaru was no more. His name was erased in all records. It was as if he never existed. Which he didn't anymore. The loss of his love, of _her_, had pained him beyond belief. It hurt more than any torture could imbue on him.

He carried her body, encased in diamond, preserving her and freezing her. Should his sword ever work, he would be ready. It had been centuries since that battle. 865 years, to be exact. And he was still waiting.

He had loved once. Had.

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Weeeeeell there you go. Review please, cuz I really like when that happens. Dedicated readers, I love you so much!


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